


Where Dreaming Can Lead

by Greenpandama0u0



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-08 02:04:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4286490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greenpandama0u0/pseuds/Greenpandama0u0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Creative fortune teller and disillusioned writer meet</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where Dreaming Can Lead

Ethan had hated his job in marketing. He always felt as if he were taking advantage of people by pushing them to buy products that they would never need or even use. That’s why he left the job. That’s why he became a novelist. Follow your dreams, that’s what everyone says right?  
…  
“You’ve already had one successful book; why can’t you just write a sequel? Milk as much money as you can from your readers.”   
Ethan just glared across the table at his friend.  
“Oh yeah let me just write a book about myself being happy, free, and bipedal. Oh wait. I can’t because I am none of those things anymore. And no. Don’t apologize, don’t try to act like you understand, because you don’t. How can you with your nonexistent problems?”   
The café quieted as Lena abruptly stood up.   
“You know what? I don’t have to put up with your crap. Just because you’re a cripple doesn’t mean you’re excused if you act like a jerk. Let me just get rid of one more of my ‘nonexistent’ problems. Don’t bother calling to hang out anymore; I won’t be picking up.”  
Ethan could only watch her back as she left.   
Somehow, he could not bring himself to care. Not with so many other problems on his mind. He would apologize after he came up with a new storyline: one that catered to what people would buy, pulled in money, and would allow him to pay for his physical therapy.   
The grim reminder of the grey cloud always hanging over his head only made him sigh and finish his cold coffee.   
On the way out, the server glared at him for the shortage of a tip he could not afford to spare.  
…  
“Idiots,” he muttered. His eyes were trained on the group of giggling middle school students coming out of the fortune telling booth set up in the dank subway.   
A sign was leaning against the tent, reading, “scarily accurate” and “find out who your lover is”. The homemade advertisements did not stop there. Inside the booth there were several poorly carved wooden flutes decorated with peeling toddler quality paint. Sitting there at the crooked table was a disfigured man.   
“Were you looking to get your fortune read?” the man questioned through his twisted mouth.  
“I don’t know, was I?” as he felt his own mouth twist into a cruel smile. “You’re the fortune teller, right? You tell me. Oh wait. Could it be that you can’t see the future? Don’t you feel bad always lying and tricking people? You’re just a greasy conman.”  
Ethan stopped to take a breath and noticed for the first time how young the man seemed to be. The right half of his face screwed up in a permanent grimace like a gnarled old tree. The twisted contours emphasized the large brown eyes, the pink bow shaped mouth, and the creamy skin of the other half. The innocence of the left half reminded Ethan of his younger brother—the one who died in the same accident that left Ethan with only one leg.   
“I’m sorry…” Ethan choked as his face burned with shame. He looked at the man again expecting either an angry or terrified face. He didn’t know which one would be worse. What he was not expecting was the bright smile that greeted his vision.  
“No worries sir, why don’t you sit down and relax? I will read your fortune for no charge because you seem like an interesting person.” The fortune teller assured with a soothing voice.  
“It’s okay, I’ll pay for all of it.”  
“Alright, then the full package it is.”  
…  
Thirty minutes. It was all it took for Ethan to become completely and utterly enamored. At first, he was skeptical. The story was completely fantasy, with an exotic setting and plot, but the character embodied everything and anything that Ethan wanted for himself. This brave, selfless, honest became his dream.  
…  
After that Ethan visited the fortune teller every day. With each and every fortune he gained more and more motivation to write. Finally he produced a lengthy draft centered around his idealized self. The only problem was that no one would publish his work without demanding some kind of major revision of the character. They wanted to add flaws. They said he was ‘too perfect’. This he could not accept.  
…  
“Come on! If you could just lend me some cash I could just self-publish. It wouldn’t even be that big of an investment I’ll pay you back as soon as the profit starts coming in.”  
“I don’t know…” the fortune teller confessed with shifty eyes.  
“What do you even spend money on? You live in a tent! We could be famous! This would be so much more successful than my first book.”  
“I need them for my medication…”  
“I recon it would only be a couple of weeks before I double what you give me, I just need you to lend me some money as a boost. Please!”   
“….Alright.”  
…  
First one week passed, then three, then five. By the seventh, Ethan did not have the money. By the tenth, Ethan lost hope for ever receiving any money. By the fifteenth month, Ethan was falling deep, deep into despair.  
…  
“Ethan? What is it? Please tell me what happened.”  
“I thought it would be successful… Don’t worry I’m sure it’s just taking a little longer for people to discover it. Just please don’t worry.” Ethan reassured, lying through his teeth.  
“Ethan, please I need money now. Please, Ethan.”  
“…” There was nothing else to say.  
…  
The end of the fifteenth month found Ethan on the streets. He was left standing outside his apartment with an angry landlord and a box of his only possessions.   
It was only hours later that he discovered his good friend, the fortune teller dead because he was unable to pay for the “medication” he injected last.  
With no other option left, he returned to marketing. He found himself even more adept than before, easily surpassing his colleagues.


End file.
